The Time Keeper (The Guardians of Time Book 1) (17 page)

‘I see.  Trouble in paradise?’  So the relationship wasn’t going too well.  Interesting.  He wondered what else was going on with her that he didn’t know about.  Would she tell him if he asked?  She seemed pretty open with him, but he didn’t have a lot of experience with deep and meaningfuls.

‘Mmmm.’  She glanced away and promptly spun back towards him, her hand clutching his arm.  ‘Oh, I almost forgot to tell you.  I found out about Henri!  Three of the men have gone on a short mission and Henri’s one of them.  They’re due back tonight.  Any idea how we’re going to get him away from here and out of danger?’

Seb shook his head.  ‘Nope.  I guess we’ll just wing it once we meet him and have a bit of a feel for the man.’

Chapter 21

As it turned out, they didn’t need to worry about getting Henri away from danger.  Danger had already found him.  Just before dawn, a commotion in the tunnel woke Emilia.  Two men burst into the cavern, their chests heaving in and out like they’d been running hard and fast.  Pierre came in behind them, the lantern in his hand weaving from side to side and casting eerie shadows on the walls of skulls, giving them a ghoulish appearance.

‘Henri’s been taken,’ one of the men gasped, his hands dropping to his knees as he heaved deep breaths of air into his lungs.

There was a moment of stunned silence and then everyone started talking and moving at the same time, thrusting aside their blankets.  Veronique was one of the first up and she rushed straight to the man who had spoken, running her hands rapidly over his face and torso.  So that must be Georges, Emilia surmised as she untangled herself from her blanket and stood up stiffly.  She stretched to get the kinks out of her back.  The blanket had been warm, but not nearly as comfortable as Seb.

‘What happened?’ Jean demanded, his voice disembodied in the almost complete blackness of the cavern.  Someone fumbled for a light and then another lantern lit the room.  Jean strode across the floor and guided the two men to chairs.  Crouching in front of them, he said again, ‘Tell me what happened.’

The second man, who Emilia assumed was Anton, spoke.  ‘We were cutting the phone lines at one of the outposts, when a dog caught our scent.  I would have given him something to eat to keep him quiet, but it was our last job before we came back and we’d eaten all our rations,’ he said, stricken.  ‘It started growling and snapping.  Georges tried to calm it down, but we could hear someone moving inside and then a light came on, so we ran.  Except Henri had dropped the bolt cutters in our haste to get away and when he realised, he made us stop so he could go back for them.’

‘He knows how valuable our tools are,’ Georges commented, like he needed to justify Henri’s actions.

Anton nodded.  ‘We stayed out of sight in the shadows and watched him creep back.  He had the cutters in his hand and had turned to come back, when two soldiers stepped out of the darkness, grabbed him and dragged him inside.’ 

‘We waited and watched… to see if there might be some way we could get him out.  A light went on upstairs and after a while we heard him screaming.’  Georges swallowed, his expression tormented.  ‘He was holding the bolt cutters, so they know he’s with the resistance.  They’re torturing him to get information on our whereabouts, I’m sure!’

Jean nodded, his face pale and drawn.  ‘Yes.’

‘We crept back over to the building, to see if we could get in,’ Anton picked up the story again.  ‘There were at least five soldiers downstairs who we could see through the windows.  Probably at least two upstairs with Henri.  We only had the one gun; we knew it would be suicide to go in after him.  So we came back,’ he said on a sob.

‘You did the right thing, lads,’ Jean reassured them. 

‘But we’ve got to get Henri back… before they kill him!’ Georges blurted.

‘Just let me think for a minute.’  Jean rose from his crouched position and wandered over to the area he worked at every day, gazing sightlessly at the crudely formed cross embedded into the stone wall.  Emilia wondered if he was praying, seeking guidance.

She sidled closer to Seb.  ‘What are we going to do?’ she whispered urgently.

‘At least we know where he is now,’ he murmured grimly, his lips barely moving.  ‘If Jean proposes a rescue attempt, I’ll make sure I’m part of it.  If not, I’ll tell Jean we have another job to do before returning to London and you and I will go and find him ourselves.’

Jean turned to address his gathered people.  ‘It’s too close to daylight to do anything now, so we’ll wait until dark tonight.  Georges and Anton, one of you will have to go, since you know what outpost Henri is being held at.  Do I have another volunteer?’

Every hand in the room went up immediately.  Jean sighed.  ‘You can’t all go.  Just two will be less noticeable and with the right kind of tools, more than enough.’

Seb stepped forward.  ‘Sir, I’ve done this kind of thing before and I’ve had a lot of practice scaling buildings.’

Jean nodded decisively.  ‘Once again your aid has been invaluable, Seb.  Thank you.  Right, everybody
please
try and get some sleep.’

As Emilia lay back down close to Seb, she muttered, ‘I don’t suppose you’ll let me go with you?’

‘Not this time, Angel.  No point putting you in danger if I don’t have to.’

She sighed.  ‘I figured that’s how you’d see it.’

‘How well you know me!  Now, go to sleep.’  He rolled, turning his back to her and she knew he’d be asleep in minutes.  She, on the other hand, stared into the darkness for quite some time.  It was ridiculous to worry.  With his magic, Seb was practically indestructible, but she also knew he’d be limited in what he could do with someone else there. 

*

Emilia’s self-diagnosis was that she was suffering from cabin fever.  She felt cooped up, agitated and if she didn’t see the sun soon she was going to spontaneously combust.  And she desperately needed to exercise – so much so that she was seriously considering doing suicide runs in the tunnel outside the cavern.  Of course in the flickering lantern light the hollow eyed stares of the thousands of long dead French men and women were the stuff of nightmares.  If future missions were anything like this one, she was bound for a life of therapy.  Not that she’d be able to talk about anything, unless she wanted to get sent to the funny farm!

She slumped to the floor and then bounced straight back up again, too restless to sit still.  She paced from one side of the cavern to the other; ignoring the amused looks Jean was passing her way.  Seb had been gone for hours!  Very, very
long
hours!  The only thing preventing Emilia from exploding right now was the stern, pithy speech she was mentally composing for his benefit and as the hours passed, it was only getting better, possibly even award worthy.

She was going to sit Seb down and share her feelings about the roles they played in future missions.  There was probably going to be some finger pointing on her part, possibly some jabs to the chest.  But there was definitely going to be a frank conversation… or more like a dialogue, since she was planning on doing all the talking… because there was no way she was going to be left behind again while Seb went off and had all the fun.  For a start, the worrying was prematurely ageing her.  She’d rather be part of the action, seeing exactly what was happening, rather than sitting here imagining the worst.  And secondly, she hadn’t signed up to be a spectator.  She wanted to help save people too.  He needed to understand that.

In the meantime, she was too fired up to sleep.  Which seemed to be the case for everyone in the cavern.  Despite the late hour, no one was sleeping.  They were all too worried about Henri.

The sound of footsteps in the tunnel had everyone pushing to their feet expectantly.  Emilia frowned – she could only hear two sets of steps.

Anton rounded the corner, followed by Seb.  Both guys were covered in soot and both of them looked despondent.

‘He’s still alive.  We heard him groaning,’ Anton quickly reassured the gathered crowd.  ‘But we couldn’t get him out.  The building is too heavily guarded to get in through the lower floor, which we expected.  But upstairs, all the windows are barred on both sides.  The only way in is through the chimney, which unfortunately is too narrow for either Seb or I to fit down.’

Seb looked over at Emilia resignedly.  ‘I think you’re small enough to get down.’  He paused.  ‘Are you up for it?’

‘Absolutely.’  She mentally tossed the speech in the garbage.  No need for it if he was going to get her involved in the action.  She frowned as a thought occurred to her.  ‘If you two can’t get down, how are we going to get Henri up?’

Someone chuckled.  ‘If you’d met Henri, you wouldn’t need to ask,’ Georges responded from where he was standing with his arm wrapped around Veronique. 

Veronique rolled her eyes.  ‘Henri’s what you might call scrawny.  He’s an absolute sweetheart, but a bean pole.’

Emilia spun back around to face Seb.  ‘I’m ready if you’re ready.’

Anton shook his head.  ‘It’s too close to dawn.  We’re going to have to wait until tomorrow night.’  He grimaced and ran his hand through his hair.  ‘I hate leaving him there.’

Jean squeezed his shoulder.  ‘He may be scrawny, but Henri’s a fighter.  He’ll hang in there and you’ll get him out tomorrow night.’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

Everyone wandered wearily back to their usual sleeping spots.  No one liked the thought of Henri being tortured for another day before they could rescue him.  Emilia trailed after Seb, who slumped down against the wall with an irritated sigh.  She sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders were touching.  He didn’t seem to notice the contact.

‘It was so frustrating, Em,’ he murmured, so quietly she had to lean right into him.  ‘I could have blasted him out of that room in a heartbeat, but I can’t draw attention like that.  Sometimes I wonder what the point of magic is, if I can’t do anything useful with it!’

There wasn’t much she could say to that.  He was right.  She’d felt helpless enough knowing what the future held for these people and being unable to tell them.  She could only imagine how much worse it must be for Seb to have so much power at his fingertips and be incapable of using it.  She reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his, squeezing gently, sharing his frustration in the only way she knew how.

Resting his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, his hand still clasped in hers.  The last thing Emilia thought before the lanterns were extinguished was how small his strong, capable hands made hers look and how very much she liked the feel of his slightly rough fingers intertwined with hers.

Chapter 22

‘I’m going up first,’ Seb whispered in her ear.  ‘I’ll tie the rope around the chimney and lower it down to you.  Do you think you can scale the wall or would you rather I pulled you up?’

They were standing at the back of the house where Henri was being kept, close to the wall where they couldn’t be seen from any of the windows.  It was just barely dark, but no one had wanted to wait a second longer than necessary.  Emilia stared up at the uneven brickwork of the wall Seb was about to climb without a rope.  She swallowed.  He’d obviously done it last night, so he must know what he was doing, but from her perspective she couldn’t see any foot or hand holds, other than the bars covering the windows… and there was a
lot
of space in between the windows.

‘I can scale it,’ she whispered back, and hoped she sounded confident. 

He tipped her chin up with one finger, gazing steadily into her eyes.  ‘I’ll be right above you; Anton will be below you.  We won’t let you fall.’

‘I know.’  And suddenly her anxiety fell away from her, because she
did
know.  She trusted Seb and since he had such a complex about protecting her, she knew he wouldn’t let her even attempt the climb if he thought she’d come to any harm.  She grinned.  ‘I can do it.’

‘That’s my girl.’  He winked and then, slinging the rope over his shoulder, began the climb. 

Seb scaled the wall with seeming ease, agile as a monkey.  When he reached the top he disappeared from sight, appearing again a few moments later and throwing the rope down to them.  Anton caught it, gave it a tug to make sure it was secure and then handed it to Emilia.  She patted her lower back, making sure the gun Seb had given her was still safely wedged down the back of her pants.

Grabbing the rope, she duck-walked her feet onto the wall so she was leaning out, like she would be if she were abseiling.  She slowly started walking up the wall.  It was painstaking at first, but once she got the hang of it her speed increased until at last her hands were level with the top of the roof.  Seb reached down, gripped her under the arms and lifted her out and up over the edge.

‘Well done,’ he whispered with a grin.

A few moments later Anton’s head popped over the edge of the roof.  Seb reached out a hand and heaved him over the ledge.  Anton slipped off the extra rope he had slung across his chest – this was the one Emilia would need to climb down the chimney.  They all tiptoed across the roof tiles to where the chimney protruded.

While Seb stuck his head down the chimney to check for any hint of noise in the room below, Emilia took in the view of Paris.  They weren’t high enough to get a bird’s eye view of the city and with the compulsory black out there was little light to see the sights anyway.  But off in the distance, she thought she could see the outline of the top of the Eiffel Tower.  One day, in her own time, she’d have to come back to see Paris properly and do all the touristy things.

Seb pulled his head back, shaking it hard to get rid of the soot and reached back for Anton’s rope.  He looped it around the chimney, tested it was secure and dropped it down the hole into the room below.  ‘I can’t hear anything, so I think we’re all clear.’  He looked at Emilia, his expression grim.  ‘I’ll be right here, so if you hear anyone coming tug on the rope and I’ll pull you back up, okay?’

Emilia nodded, suddenly nervous.  This was the serious part of the rescue and she had to do it virtually on her own.  ‘Let’s get going before I lose my nerve.’

The top of the chimney reached her waist, so she swung her legs over and lowered herself until her arms were resting on the lip.  Bracing her feet on the sides of the chimney, she gripped the rope with her hands.  Seb was right; her feet were just slightly more than shoulder width apart – the space was narrow.  As she lowered herself down, she contemplated how lucky they all were she wasn’t claustrophobic.

Several times on the way down she scraped her anklebones against the brick, but fortunately it didn’t take long before she moved her feet around and felt only air.  Loosening her grip on the rope, she dropped the last few centimetres to the base of the fireplace, making sure she landed lightly on the balls of her feet.

Dropping to a crouch, she stuck her head out into the room and checked it was clear before she stepped out.  As expected, it was dark but since her eyes had already adjusted, she was able to make out the shape lying on a narrow metal cot on the far side of the room.

She crept over on tiptoe, trying not to make any noise on the old floorboards.  One creaked and she froze instinctively, listening carefully for any activity in the house.  She could faintly hear talking from downstairs, but nothing close.  Relaxing slightly, she started moving again. 

When she reached the cot, she couldn’t hold back a gasp at her first sight of Henri.  The darkness concealed the worst of it, but she could still see that the whole of the right side of his face was swollen and bruised, his lips cracked and caked with dried blood in several places and his jaw looked displaced and was clearly broken.

Reaching out, she gently shook him and the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut, snapped open… and then widened in surprise when he saw she was a girl.

She put her finger to her lips.  ‘Shhh.  Anton is on the roof.  Can you move?’

He hesitated and then nodded.  Swinging his legs painfully to the floor, he pushed himself upright with one arm.  Emilia saw why he’d hesitated and her eyes stung with unshed tears.  He couldn’t put any weight on his left leg and his left arm hung uselessly at his side, the tips of his fingers a bloody mess where his nails had been ripped out. 

Emilia quickly stepped in and looped his skinny right arm over her shoulder, lending her strength to help him to the fireplace.  Veronique had described him well; he wasn’t much taller than Emilia and just as slender.

Henri hobbled slowly across the room with her aid, his face contorted in a grimace of pain.  But he didn’t cry out.  Using the mantelpiece to hold himself upright, he rested while Emilia got the rope sorted.

‘With your arm broken, you’re not going to be able to climb.  I’m going to tie this around your middle, so they can pull you up.’  She looked at him apologetically.  ‘The chimney is narrow, so it’s going to hurt.’

‘I’ll manage.’

Quickly tying the rope around his waist in a secure knot, she stuck her head in the fireplace and whispered up to Seb, ‘He’s badly injured; you’re going to have to pull him up.  Try and be gentle.’

She didn’t wait for an answer but ducked back out to help Henri into place.  With his hand on her shoulder he bent and shuffled into the fireplace, this time unable to hold back a tiny wheeze of pain.

Intent on getting Henri out of the room and to safety, Emilia was oblivious to the soft footsteps coming up the stairs, so when the lock on the door rattled she spun around in surprise.

‘Go!’ she hissed at Henri, as the door opened. 

A German soldier walked into the room, a lantern swinging slightly in his hand.  Catching sight of Emilia, he stopped in bemusement, giving her a few precious seconds to decide what to do.

‘What –‘ he began, but didn’t have a chance to say more as Emilia stepped forward and delivered a swift kick straight to his kidney.  He staggered backwards and the lantern crashed to the floor, shattering noisily.  Bent forward in pain, one arm clutching his side, he reached with the other for the gun attached to his belt.  Emilia dropped to one knee and in a surge of anger over what they’d done to Henri, she propelled herself upwards, her fist swinging in a powerful uppercut straight for the soft part of his jaw.  His head snapped back and he collapsed to the floor, his eyes fluttering closed.  Sinking down on her haunches beside him, Emilia frantically checked his pulse and let out a sigh of relief when she felt it steadily pumping away.

‘Heinrich, was ist das für ein Geräusch?’ a voice called from the base of the stairs, clearly concerned about the noise. 

Emilia rose swiftly to her feet, giving her sore hand a quick shake and flex – the punch hadn’t broken her fingers, thankfully!  A feel at her back reassured her that the gun was still there if she needed it – which she fervently hoped she didn’t.  Glancing behind her, she ascertained Henri was gone from the fireplace.  Hopefully he was out of the chimney by now, because she had only moments before company arrived. 

‘
Heinrich!
’ 

Footsteps clattered up the stairs and Emilia dove for the fireplace.  Grabbing hold of the rope, she looked up into Seb’s tense face.  He started pulling her up, hand over hand, as someone burst into the room.  There was a second of silence when the new arrival must have seen the prone form of his friend and then the footsteps swiftly crossed the room. 

Emilia refused to look down, even though her heart was pumping ninety to the dozen, keeping her gaze locked on Seb.  He grasped her under the arms and pulled her swiftly up, her boots clearing the top at the same moment as a shot was fired up the chimney.  She heard angry shouting as Seb yanked the rest of the rope up and, grabbing her hand, all but dragged her across the roof until they were at the edge.  Looking down, she saw Anton heave Henri over his shoulder and start running across the road towards the relative safety of the alleyway opposite. 

‘Get on my back,’ Seb ordered and she didn’t stop to question him.  She gripped his shoulders and, with a little hop, wrapped herself around him.

Seb grasped the rope, twisted and virtually threw his body off the roof.  They were down the wall in two huge tooth-jarring jumps.  Emilia slid off his back and ran, her legs and arms pumping faster than they ever had before, adrenalin getting her across the road in milliseconds.  She could feel Seb right behind her and knew he’d be making sure the soldiers bursting out of the house couldn’t see them.

Several hundred metres down the alleyway, she was still sprinting when Seb suddenly grabbed her arm and spun her into his arms.  The momentum from her running sent her crashing against the hard wall of his chest, and he staggered back against the wall behind him.  His arms were like steel bands around her back, crushing her to him as he buried his face in the curve of her shoulder. 

He was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care.  Emilia understood.  He’d been terrified for her. 

Abruptly dropping his arms, he cupped her cheeks roughly between his hands, his gaze roaming feverishly over her features.  And then he pulled her face to his.  Her eyes widened in surprise as his lips flattened hers in a desperate kiss.  It wasn’t a kiss of passion, but a combination of fear, anger and relief… like he couldn’t think of another way to reassure himself she was alive and safe. 

And then something changed.  His lips softened, moulded to hers.  His fingers gentled and he slid his hands back into her hair, tilting her face up as he sought better access to her mouth.  His tongue traced the seam of her lips, seeking entry.  Without thinking, she parted her lips and running her hands up his chest, kissed him back.

For a few crazy seconds they kissed wildly and with abandon, the world around them forgotten.  Emilia groaned, wanting to get closer to him, and the sound seemed to jerk Seb back to his senses.  He wrenched his mouth away from hers, dropped his hands to her shoulders and set her back from him.  His breath was sawing in and out, as was hers and she knew her eyes were probably flickering with a whole host of emotions.  It had been so quick and yet she’d never felt more affected by a simple kiss.  That it was Seb who had made her feel this way was even more surprising.

His gaze slewed to the side, his hands falling away from her.  She sighed inwardly.  Here we go again, she thought resignedly.

‘I shouldn’t have done that…’

‘I think we should –‘ she began, ready to save the day again.

‘Don’t!’ he smiled ruefully and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.  ‘I know what you’re up to and it’s not necessary.  Come on, we’d better catch up to the others and help Anton with Henri.’

Reaching for her hand, he threaded his fingers through hers.  Emilia wondered if he realised how often he touched her.  She knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but he actually made some kind of physical contact with her more often than Justin did.  For someone who tried to avoid human connection, he was incredibly touchy-feely… even if tension was emanating from his every pore right now.

As they walked quickly down the alleyway to where Anton was waiting with Henri, Emilia glanced at Seb.  ‘You can relax, Sparky,’ she said with a sideways grin.  ‘I know it was just a gut reaction to an extremely tense experience for both of us.  It doesn’t mean anything.’

His eyebrows slammed together in annoyance, but he didn’t contradict her.  ‘It sucked standing up on that roof, hearing what was going on below and unable to help.  Not knowing what was happening to you was bloody awful.’  He squeezed her fingers.  ‘Ten more seconds and I would have blasted a hole in the roof and started shooting.’

‘Which would have blown our cover.  Don’t sweat it, Sparky.  Little old me took care of it,’ she said with faux sweetness, knowing it would drive him crazy.

He scowled blackly and grunted.  ‘You handled yourself well, Angel,’ he conceded.  ‘If not for you, Henri would still be stuck in there and we would have failed our mission.’

‘Aw shucks, such high praise from my Jedi master.  Happy, I am, that pleased you are.’